Veni, Vidi, Dereguli: Trumpius Caesar Restores the Empire of Common Sense

In a blaze of gilded grandeur and triumphant fanfare, Trumpius Caesar Magnus Deregulator strode into the marble rotunda and proclaimed what he called the most colossal liberation from red tape in the history of the Republic.

With one imperial stroke, he rescinded the ancient decree known as the Periculum Proclamation of 2009, a parchment drafted in the era of Obamus Climatus Primus, which had elevated the humble molecule Carbonicus Dioxidus to the status of Public Enemy No. 1.

“For too long,” declared Trumpius, “our chariots have been shackled, our engines silenced at every red light, and our citizens forced to consult bureaucratic scrolls before turning the ignition.”

The repeal, according to the Imperial Treasury, clears the path for what Trumpius calls “Energy Abundance Eternal.” Courtiers estimate that families across the provinces will save an average of 2,400 golden dollars on new wagons—be they SUVus Maximus, Truckius Titan, or Hybridus Moderatus. Caravan costs shall fall, merchants shall rejoice, and the price of everyday goods—bread, bolts, and backyard barbecues—shall tremble downward.

From the coal provinces of West Virginiana to the auto guilds of Michigania, cheers echoed across the land.

High Priestess Michellea Gridaria of the Order of Power proclaimed that the old edict had endangered the sacred electric grid itself. Energy sage Jasonius Hayes Rationalis praised the restoration of “common sense over climate theatrics.” The Guild of Chariot Makers—Fordius Motorum and Stellantis Grandus among them—welcomed the return of customer choice, pledging to offer vehicles “that citizens want, need, and can actually afford.”

Meanwhile, critics of the old regime insisted that the previous decree had granted unelected scribes the authority of economic emperors—reshaping industries, dictating engines, and declaring start-stop systems mandatory penance at every traffic light.

Even the molecule at the center of it all—Carbonicus Dioxidus, a modest 0.04 percent of the atmosphere—received a dramatic defense from scholars who reminded the empire that plants rather enjoy the stuff.

Trumpius Caesar concluded with characteristic flourish:

“We choose prosperity with clean skies, not poverty with paperwork. The people—not the parchment—shall decide what they drive.”

Thus ends the Chronicle of Deregulation Day, a saga hailed by its champions as a trillion-dollar triumph and by its critics as the opening chapter of yet another epic policy duel. But in the Empire of Trumpius, one truth rings clear:

The engines are roaring again.